Look! Two Arms.

As opposed to one. Or none. I forgot how exhausting just holding a baby all day can be. Even with all the extra arms. Sometimes only mom's will do the trick, and mine are sore and my back hurts. Then I took him to his 3 week check-up yesterday and found he weighs 9 lbs 13 oz! So that explained it. The midwife took one look at me and said,

"You need to eat more."

So  on the way home I stopped at the store, first time grocery shopping by myself, actually Kateri was with me. But I was the only adult. Ok the only driver. Anyway, we stocked up on more half and half, doughnut holes, steak, eggs, butter, and honey crisp apples. If he keeps gaining weight at a rate that would make a sumo wrestler proud, I might just have to schedule some maintenance back rubs. And some regular  deliveries of highly caloric foods, as I should probably save my stores by not walking around a store pushing a cart. Or thinking. The midwife asked me how many wet diapers he has in 24 period. And how many hours of sleep I get in a 24 hr period. Then she told me I need to get more of that too. ( the sleep, not the diapers). Which is hard to do with a nursing baby who, when he is not sleeping, is grunting, pooping, or eating. She suggested I nap with him. Which is tempting, but it is also tempting to do things with two arms when I have them both available. Things like typing.

I actually composed some really good posts in my head in the past few weeks. At least I thought they were gems at the time. But they never made it to text, which is probably just as well as the post partum hormone cocktail with a twist of sleep deprivation that I  was taking probably made things sound a lot more entertaining than they were. Plus, there was a touch of  "O, me miseram" that would not be so uplifting. And  I realized, what is better- when you are feeling sad about totally imaginary things- than adding really sad, but also real, things to the mix. Not much, if you are going from maximum drama. At least I can say I didn't watch myself cry in the mirror like a 7 year old. Although that might have only been because I was in the shower and the glass was too fogged up.

But eventually I did get some sleep and the fears of him stopping breathing lessened and the sad disparity between his  sweetness and the world's insidious and cold ways did not feel like an immediate threat. And the sad but true stories were put back in the past.  To await being dragged out again the next time he pulls an all-nighter.


So basically we are all doing really well. It was great to see the midwives again. I will be sad when the appointments end at my 6 week check-up. We finally made an appointment for his baptism. I don't know if the baptismal gown will fit him. I have no clue what will fit me. I thought there might be an opportunity to get my hair done before the event but it does not look like that is going to happen. I put the big kids on picture duty for Malachi's big day and hope they don't fight over vantage points. We decided to do it on a Saturday evening as there is nothing like trying to get 6 people fed, dressed, and in church before 10am after a rough night. And because we may have had a rough night the night before, we are forgoing a reception afterwards. Once it gets dark and cold, which it has been here lately, I just want to put cozies on, have some tea, or maybe some wine with Shane and be home.

Which reminds me, I think it is time for lunch. Too bad I ate all the doughnut holes already.